


A Bitter Pill

by Acesara



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Post-Recall, Pre-Recall, Survivor Guilt, bastion is a dirty cookie stealer but we love him, i love gerard ya feel?, jack is an angry old man and hana song is Thriving, kill bill sirens in the distance, old people are sad and think about their dead friend, thats about it, when gerard confronts ana about her dislike for amelie its all, ya boi mccree about to get some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acesara/pseuds/Acesara
Summary: It has been 8 hours, 32 minutes, and forty-four seconds in all.Exactly 8 hours, 32 minutes, and forty-four seconds since civilian and world-famous ballet dancer, Amelie Lacroix was recovered by Overwatch’s Tactical-Assault Team from a Talon cell base in Grozny.Ana Amari knows exactly how long it has been because Gerard Lacroix has been insufferable for every single second since then.





	A Bitter Pill

**Author's Note:**

> since it'll be a while before Blackwatch: Origins Edition updates i decided to throw this sad stuff into the void take it cleanse me of this angst.

It has been 8 hours, 32 minutes, and forty-four seconds in all.

 

 _Exactly_ 8 hours, 32 minutes, and forty-four seconds since civilian and world-famous ballet dancer, Amelie Lacroix was recovered by Overwatch’s Tactical-Assault Team from a Talon cell base in Grozny.

 

Ana Amari knows exactly how long it has been because Gerard Lacroix has been insufferable for every single second since then. And has done everything short of killing himself in guilt and anger for not being a second sooner.

 

He’s storming away now, angry oxfords click down linoleum floors with growing intensity after being forced to leave Amelie’s side for the first time since they found her.

 

_ The nerve. _

 

Ana hollers after him, anger poisoning the edge of her own voice the longer she is forced to chase after him.

 

Finally he stops and turns on his heel to face the red-faced egyptian with a fury in his eyes to match her own.

 

“ _ Just what do you want  _ _ now _ ?!” He growls.

 

Ana comes to a stumbling stop. She sucks in a heaving breath; she fails at trying to hide it. She’s older now. Her long jet-black locks have grayed over the years, and her visage is marred by sunspots and stress-lines. A bit of dried blood decorates her cheek in a thin swath of burgundy-brown.

 

“I  _ said…..enough.”  _ Ana huffs out. Gerard just glowers.

 

“Our decision is  _ final. _ Like it or not, Amelie is staying  _ here  _ for treatment and observation. You cannot just take her home and pretend none of this happened!  _ You  _ going behind my back and trying to smuggle her out of medbay!---”

 

“I was taking  _ my wife  _ home! She’s been through enough, I don’t need any of your doctors here prodding and poking her like a bomb ready to go off!”

 

“There’s a serious danger here, Gerard. You know that better than anyone else here. We don’t  _ know  _ just what they did to her. To remove her from Overwatch’s care poses a big risk to herself and everyone else in contact with her. Including  _ you.” _

 

“I can take care of myself,  _ Ana. _ ” Gerard sneers. “Besides , my wife is a civilian, and traumatized and tortured and your right, who knows what else?” Gerard shakes his head, his eyes are ringed with red and puffy. There are still tear tracks dried into his cheeks, but the creaking in his voice indicates he’s not quite done yet. “But she is a threat to no one.”

 

Ana shakes her head. “You don’t know that.”

 

“I know my wife!” Gerard screams. He wants to cry. He wants to rave. He wants so badly to break down again. To curl up in a ball and shatter. To hold his wife’s motionless form against his own and not let go until the world becomes kinder, safer. He wants to smooth away the bruises of black and blue from her face, her legs, her arms. To kiss away the cuts along her biceps and back. To peel away the burns from her torso and neck as if they were just dead skin, left in the wake of spending just a little  _ too  _ much time in the summer sun. He wants so badly for this to have not happened.

 

Not to her.

 

Not to Amelie.

 

_ Dieu _ , anyone but her.

 

“I  _ know  _ my wife.” He repeats, weakly.

 

Ana’s anger subsides marginally and she draws closer to frenchman. She takes in his shuddering form, the dark circles under his eyes. The sickly paleness to his face aside from his eyes, all watery and red. Her resolve crumbles slightly.

 

Gerard can’t look at her anymore. He stares holes into the floor. Angry tears stream down his face. “ _ Mon Dieu...pourquoi…?Pourquoi…..?” _

 

Ana rushes towards him and draws the mucher taller man in for a desperate hug. She wraps her arms fiercely above his shoulders and ‘round his neck. Gerard tries to hide the stunted noises his crying makes, blocking his open mouth with a fist, but he eventually gives up and wraps his arms around Ana instead, tucking his head into her shoulder. He weeps, whimpering apologies to Amelie, to Ana, to  _ Dieu.  _ Over and over, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘it’s all my fault’ ring out like mantras from his sore throat.

 

Eventually the sobs subside into wheezy sniffles and Gerard is the first to break the embrace. Ana lets go, reluctantly. Gerard still doesn’t look at Ana when he speaks again.

 

“.....You never approved of us…..you never liked her, didn’t you?” Gerard asks, self-deprecatingly.

 

Ana can’t even bring herself to voice the lie of ‘no.’ Ana hates the next words she speaks as soon as she says them, “As your friend….I’m asking you to do the right thing here, Gerard. Amelie must remain here, until Doctor Ziegler finishes her testing, treatments and evaluations and not a moment before--”

 

“ _ Didn’t you?!”  _ The words are bile.

 

Another pulse of silence answers his question for her.

 

Gerard shakes his head, exhaling an attempt of a laugh. “It’s because she’s not like you, isn’t it?  Not like any of you. She’s a civilian. A famous one, at that….not a homemaker like Torbjorn’s wife...or a battle-hardened, third-generation, super soldier like yourself--”

 

“ _ Gerard.” _

 

“And who are you to tell me how to take care of my wife.”

 

Again, Ana comes to regret the words she says.

 

“I am your friend. And your superior officer--”

 

“ _ Mon Dieu! _ Look at you! I never thought I’d see the day when you pull rank on me. My, have you been losing faith in your influence as _ Deputy Strike Commander _ as of late, or am I just lucky?”

 

“Gerard.”

 

“Don’t Gerard me, Ana. Don’t-don’t you dare.” He’s backing away now. For every step Ana takes towards him, desperate to patch the gap, Gerard retreats again. A much slower version of their previous chase down the hall takes place. They are almost halfway towards the next entrance when a figure appears from one of the side doors in the hallway.

 

“Oh! Howdy there Miss Ana! Lacroix! I was just lookin’ for you two; got the report from Liao right here that y’all wanted for--”

 

“WHAT, MCCREE?” Is the simultaneous answer given to the resident cowboy who suddenly, as if struck by lightening, notices the tension in the room and the tightness to their features. Slowly, he puts up his hands and all at once backs out the way he came in, leaving the two of them to their chase.

 

Alone.

 

Ana breaks the silence this time. “Look. I’m sorry about what has happened. For all of this. We can all never be sorry enough for what the two of you have had to endure but I truly believe you’re making a mistake by leaving with her now. Let her get the help she needs here, where it’s safe. Where you  _ know  _ she’ll be taken care of.”

 

“Just like how Ziegler _ took care _ of that Japanese boy?” Gerard murmurs. He looks up. “Forgive me, but I have a growing lack of faith in the ethics of your medical staff. I wish to take her back to Annecy. It’s familiar. It’s comfortable. My wife would be happier getting treated their then shut up in here like some science experiment.”

 

Ana opens her mouth to protest but Gerard doesn’t give her the chance. “I’ve already failed my wife once…….” He locks eyes with her, “please don’t let me fail her again. Don’t make her stay.”

 

Ana feels herself nodding, slowly.

 

Gerard approaches her this time, arms in front of him, palms faced up. He’s pleading.“Please try to understand.”

 

Ana clears her throat in finality. “You’ll let the doctors finish their evaluations. They will forward any findings to the physician you choose for Amelie. It’ up to them to finish their treatment of her. If anything happens, anything abnormal develops in her behavior or appearance you will alert us immediately and bring her back here.”

 

Gerard nods, frowning.

 

“I mean it.”

 

“I’m sure you do. I’d expect nothing less from Overwatch’s Mama Bear.” Gerard turns away from Ana.

 

The fight seems to have left both of them entirely. Only weariness remains. Ana can hear the man audibly sigh. “If there’s nothing else. I’d like clearance to return to my wife, I need to sign her out and get her home,  _ ma’am _ .”

 

Ana purses her lips at the formality, at Gerards hunched posture but she swallows down her annoyance. “Yes, of...of course. You are dismissed, specialist.”

 

Gerard nods. His gait past Ana back to medbay is wrought with fatigue that seems to roll off the man in waves.

 

Before the sound of his oxford’s ceases entirely, Ana turns on her heel and calls out one last time to Gerard.

 

“Wait.”

 

Gerard turns deathly slow, and stares at her with unblinking eyes of brown and blue.

 

“I…..take care of yourself out there, Gerard. You hear me?”

 

Gerard gives a strained smile. “Oui, je comprends.”

 

“Good. Because…..because the sooner you do, the sooner you may join us again. After all, it would be quite lonely without you here…..how  _ would _ we carry on without you?” Ana’s smile turns sweet, sincere.

 

Gerard is slow to beam at the statement, but quick on the uptake. “Ah. I’m sure you’d all  _ eventually  _ learn to go without me gracing presence, my charms.”

 

“Maybe we wouldn’t want to.”

 

Gerard closes his eyes and presses a palm against his heart. He looks like he suddenly has much more to say. But their tired. Their capabilities for holding anymore conversation at the moment has been exhausted. And they both have somewhere else to be right now.

 

He considers her a moment longer before turning and beginning is retreat to medbay.

 

“Adieu, Ana. Until we meet again.”

  
  


"Ila al-liqa’a.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

The year is 2078. The recall had just passed its two year anniversary of being put in place a few months ago.

 

The date is September 1st. On this day, so many years ago, french authorities discovered one deceased Gerard Donatien Lacroix in his home.

 

Or what was left of it anyway.

 

Cause of death? Unknown.

 

House fires have a way of mucking of possible murder investigations after all.

 

His wife?--

 

Former Captain Ana Amari closes her eyes, and stops thinking past that question.

 

Upon opening her eyes, she brings herself back to the present. To the year of 2078. She’s sitting at a cute little corner table made of beechwood pressed against one of the large bay windows on base. She glances at the view. The crashing of waves against the Gibraltar coastline is muffled by the glass barrier. The hurried sunset paints the waters and wind-whipped rocks below in brilliant shades of red, violet and yellow. She narrows her eyes and spots a pair of figures strolling side by side on the beach, close to the water's edge.

 

Every now and again her eye catches the bumping of shoulders, the brushing of hands against one another. She can’t help but huff out a chuckle.

 

The archer and the cowboy……...

 

Who knew?

 

She watches as they disappear from sight. The tea on the table has long grown cold, and Bastion; the absolute dear, made off with most of the cookies she’d laid out for herself between when she’d sat down and now. 

 

The clearing of a gravely throat directs Ana’s attention forward again.

 

“Mind if I join you?” Jack gestures to the rickety old chair across from her.

 

Before Jack goes to sit, Ana retorts, “yes actually.”

 

Jack halts in his actions, visored face turning to hers owlishly. Ana bursts out into chuckles, causing the man to sigh and take the seat.

 

“You are too easy sometimes, I swear. It’s almost not fun anymore.”

 

“Almost?” Jack asks, slowly detaching the visor from his face.

 

Ana picks up her teacup and grins at him, eyes squinting. “Almost.” She responds playfully.

 

Jack lays the tac-visor on the table with care while his other hand pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. Ana hums in thought. Angela should find a way to make the adjustability between visor and real world brightness easier on his eyesight.

 

What’s left of it, anyway.

 

Ana leans back in her seat and waits for Jack to get situated. His cornflower blue eyes flutter open and he relaxes his hold on the bridge of his nose, instead rubbing slow circles into his temple. He turns his head marginally until he’s almost sure he’s facing Ana and pipes up, knowing. “He was today?”

Ana nods, before remembering Jack probably can’t see it. “Yes, actually.” Jack lets out a small hum. Ana takes a small sip of her long past cool tea, trying to seem more casual and unburdened than she truly is.

 

“I had a feeling.” 

 

“Did you now?” Ana sets down the teacup on the bone china saucer. Ana studies the designs; sweet purple lilacs and violets are outlined in gold trim. A collaborative birthday gift from Lena and that cute, redheaded girlfriend of hers...what  _ was  _ her name…?

 

Jack turns. “Well yes. That and, ah, Winston may have mentioned somethin--”

 

Ana chuckles, low and smooth. “I knew it.”

 

Jack sighs, disgruntled. The two old veterans let silence swallow them whole. Just the muffled crashing of waves upon the sand and the screeching of gulls can be heard. Before the recall, it was just the two of them; holed up together alone for long stretches of time; everywhere from necropolis’ in Egypt to shoddy bars in Mexico, Jack and Ana have called them all home. Coexisting with someone for so long after nothing but solitary actuality  has given the old soldiers an appreciation for silence.

 

Jack speaks up again, “you heard from Fareeha recently? I’ve been getting nothing but radio silence, and I checked the roster. She hasn’t been slated for any missions lately.”

 

Ana puts the teapot in front of her on the portable heater plugged into the wall’s outlet. A gift from her dearest Fareeha for Eid. In the meantime Ana presses a truffle against the top of Jack’s knuckles. Jack takes it wordlessly with a tight smile and takes a bite.

 

“That’s because she’s not on a mission. Fareeha is on leave with Ms. Vaswani at the moment. Last I spoke to her, she’d just gotten off the plane to Cairo. Apparently Helix has suffered another breach so the two of them have left to do something about it.

 

Jacks tsks and talks around a mouthful of chocolate. “Vaswani. The liaison to Vishkar? You believe that’s a good idea?”

 

Ana rolls her eye and grins. “My beliefs are irrelevant. Fareeha is a grown woman now, she has duties to attend to and Ms. Vaswani has been very…... _ accommodating  _ and more than willing to help her.” Jack may be almost entirely blind sans his visor. But he swears on his mother’s grave he can _ see  _ the twinkle in Ana’s eye. Hear the purr in her voice.

 

Jack clears his throat, frowning slightly. Ana’s laughing at him again.

 

After the laughter dies down the silence that replaces it suddenly seems more sullen. The teapot hisses out angry whistles and Ana abruptly turns off the heater, reaching for a clean cup and saucer when a pale hand on her own stops her.

 

Glassy blue eyes that can no longer see still bore into her own nonetheless.

 

“You couldn’t’ve known what would happen to Gerard. None of us could’ve predicted what would happen…”

 

“I know.” The answer is short. Jack isn’t buying it.

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

Ana gazes out the window once more. She sees Mccree lean to his side to splash ocean water up at Hanzo. Cackling when it gets Hanzo right in the face.

 

Sees Hanzo immediately tackle Mccree in retaliation and begins splashing him back with a vengeance.

 

They’re kissing now. 

 

_ Children, behave. _

 

“I mean it, Ana.”

 

Ana sighs and chews on the words before she says them, turning to him again. “I appreciate that, Jack. But you know as well as I do that we could have done more….I let him go. I let him take her home. I let him die--”

 

“Don’t. Don’t do that, Ana.” Jack’s voice rumbles lower in warning. Like a rolling thunder across the Indiana plains. “You can’t start thinking that way. Not now. Don’t do it.”

 

Ana nods dumbly, but makes no verbal confirmation this time.

 

“We should, ah. Maybe we could take a walk? The sun hasn’t set yet, right? That Song girl said the sand is good for us ‘old geezer’ and I intend to prove her wrong and complain about it later to her.” Jack states his proposal frankly, but there’s a humor hanging off the edge of his words and Ana can’t help but agree.

 

“That would be nice. But, maybe not the beach?”

 

Jack raises a scarred eyebrow. “ _ Those two  _ are at it again?” Jack scoffs. “You know, I think Mccree is asking for it sometimes, don’t you?”

 

A particularly loud, muffled squeal from Mccree is their answer. They both laugh this time.

 

“Jack, don’t ask questions you know the answer to”, she sputters in between  giggles. With that she stands. Taking the pot off the heater and unplugging the machine from the wall. Jack goes to stand and put on the visor but Ana gets to it first before he can. She places the visor firmly on her side of the table. She rounds on him and brushes her hand against his arm. Jack gets the hint.

 

He sighs but offers his elbow to her all the same. Ana beams taking it, and they begin their leisurely stroll down the exotic hallways of Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

 

Jack and Ana walk arm and arm. One clad in Hana’s old promotional bunny slippers and the other in worn sandals respectively.

 

Two pairs of feet clatter on linoleum floors, not shiny oxfords and combat boots this time, but the sound humbles Ana nonetheless.

 

All these years laters, and it’s still a bitter pill to take.

 

But it  _ has  _ gotten easier.

 

And for that, Ana is blessed.

**Author's Note:**

> a religious use of headcanons are in place since michael chu seems intent of starving me of the Cold Hard Facts about my son Gerard.  
> Again thanks for reading and hit me up here or at aph-mouse on tumblr with comments, criticisms or suggestions. Lots of love<3333


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